


Come Little Children

by CarlottaStudios



Category: Storm Hawks (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, most things in SH don't get enough attention, now we FINALLY get to some early work of mine that I like, or at least I that I mostly like, the sky siren doesn't get enough attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2020-07-12 06:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarlottaStudios/pseuds/CarlottaStudios
Summary: A brief tale on the sky siren and the Great Expanse...(a one-shot inspired by Come Little Children by Erutan)





	Come Little Children

There was once a terra on the edge of the great expanse. But something happened to that terra. No one knows how it started. Nobody knows why. No one even knows exactly when it started. All anybody knows for sure is what it had done.

It actually began quite innocently. Strange blue-green fog had started forming around the terra. The villagers paid it no mind at the time. It gently crept on the edge like waves on a beach. It grew thicker, surrounding the small terra like a snake wrapping around its victim. The fog reached out with cloudy fingers to grasp at more bits and pieces of the land, snaking around the buildings and settling in the square. It closed in on the terra like the jaws of a strange, monstrous animal. Finally, one day, the fog swallowed up the small piece of land so that its people were lost, seemingly wiped clean of the face of the Atmos.

There was once a terra with peaceful and happy villagers. They smiled and laughed easily, and they often sang praise to the world, just glad to be alive. But once the fog settled in, the villagers began to disappear.

Men and women would leave for work and never come back at night. An elderly woman had been seen walking in a dream-like state toward the fog. Her young grandson was clinging to her leg, crying, begging her to come back, to not go. But she didn’t seem to hear him. She just kept walking, reaching out to the fog as though there was something precious that was just out of her reach. When her grandson looked into her eyes, they were glowing white orbs, no pupil or iris, just white glowing faintly purple. He then ran back to his parents, crying. His grandmother walked straight into the fog and was never seen again.

There was once a terra where children ran and played through the streets. Now, the streets became more and more deserted, as each child’s heart was consumed by fear. But the adults were oblivious. And so, day by day, the village became more and more of a ghost-town.

By this time, there was only one adult left on the entire terra. He was an old man whom the children called Grandfather, although they were not his grandchildren. Grandfather was a kind man. He seemed to be immune to whatever enchantment had bewitched all the adults of the terra. He invited many of the kids to live with him in his comfortable home. He told them stories, he made them food; he was like a real grandfather for them all. Grandfather wanted to protect the children. They were the only family he had left. But he couldn’t protect them for long.

One night, a little girl lay in her bed, crying. Her parents were gone and she was all alone. She was one of the few children who didn’t want to stay with Grandfather, nice as he was. She was hungry and she had nothing to eat. And worst of all, she was scared. She wanted to see the sunlight again, she wanted to see her family, she wanted to see her mother’s face. Above all things, she wanted to see her mother.

Just then, the girl heard a sound. It was the soft plink of a string. She waited …there it was again. It was a note…it was music. Then, two more plinks resonated in the silence. The girl leaned out her window, curious. And then she heard a strange voice. It was hauntingly beautiful, and it was singing:

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away…into a land of enchantment…come little children, the time’s come to play…here in my garden of shadows…”

The girl felt her fear melt away. How could she be afraid now? It was such a lovely voice…like a choir of angels. She had to find who was singing. Slowly, dreamily, the girl descended the stairs and walked out the door, following the voice.

“Follow sweet children, I’ll show thee the way…through all the pain and the sorrows…weep not poor children, for life is this way…murdering beauty and passion…”

The voice filled the entire village. Slowly, surely, every child left their beds and went outside, seeking out the singer. They moved as though pulled by strings. Finally, all the children came to a small cottage, where a candle was lit in the windows. The door was open, and in the single room they looked into was the singer.

She was a woman. A tall, young woman with long, purple hair that seemed to float around her and tapered, strangely long fingers that plucked at the strings of a harp. Her skin was a pale shade of blue-green, and she was clothed in a long, lightly colored violet dress. As she turned to the children, she smiled beatifically. Her eyes were blank white orbs. She stood up and guided the little ones out the door with her. They followed, smiling up at her with adoration. As they walked through the empty village, the woman began to sing again, in that same strange, beautiful and mysterious voice:

“Hush now dear children, it must be this way…too weary of life, and deceptions…rest now my children, for soon we’ll away…into the calm and the quiet…”

In his home, Grandfather awoke to see that every child was gone. In a panic, he ran to the window to see the long procession of youngsters following the strange woman. He cried out and, despite his old age, ran outside. He grabbed the arm of the nearest child, a girl, and turned her around. She still had the same smile…but her eyes were blank. Just then, the woman turned, slowly, and smiled at Grandfather. But this smile seemed colder, crueler. She then held out her arms to the girl and sang softly. The girl turned, and walked right into her arms. The woman kept walking, carrying the girl.

As the group continued walking, Grandfather ran after them to catch up. But something pushed him back, an invisible force he could not fight. The woman and her followers started to ascend, walking on the air itself as though they were floating. As they got further away from him, Grandfather felt weaker, and weaker, until he collapsed. His legs would not hold his weight, he could not get up. He reached out a hand toward the children, but the fog got to him before he could wheeze out a single word. When the fog cleared, in the old man’s place, there was an old corpse.

The small band had by now entered the same blue-green clouds that had surrounded their village. A light began to glow dimly, and the clouds parted in front of them. The children saw a staircase made of golden light and stars. They once more looked up at their strange savior, who also smiled at them. But her smile was not a warm, loving smile; it was a cruel, sinister smile. Yet, the children did not seem scared. They simply smiled back, reassured, and began to climb the staircase. The woman sang once more as they ascended:

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away…into a land of enchantment…come little children, the time’s come to play…here in my garden of shaaa-aaaadooooooooooows…”

As all the children turned away from the woman, her sinister grin became all the more frightening. Then, she transformed. Her dress formed into a violet cloud of glowing energy that surrounded her, revealing a tattered and torn purple outfit underneath. Pale markings ran along the creature’s face and limbs, and her fingers became longer and more claw-like. And now, her teeth formed into two long, wickedly sharp fangs. She reached out at the nearest child, her fingers closing around the unfortunate one’s neck…

There was once a terra on the edge of the great expanse. It is now long-forgotten, since the day the people all disappeared. The ghost-town of a village is no more, and the terra itself has shifted into the form of a huge, mountain-like stalagmite. The only thing that remains is the corpse of Grandfather, now reduced to bones, fused with the stalagmite, still reaching out; although too late to save those he loved.

There was once a terra. But it is no more. It has become part of the great expanse. The truth is probably horribly clear to you now:

The great expanse is growing.


End file.
